Lyan's sword ground against mine, the screech of metal ringing through the chamber like the cry of some wild, desperate beast. His eyes, dark and predatory, locked onto mine with a fierce intensity that felt more like a challenge than a warning. Every muscle in my body was coiled, ready for the next exchange. I could feel the demonic energy radiating off him in waves, its heat clashing with the cold edge of my dark magic. The room itself seemed to hold its breath, the air thick with anticipation.
Without warning, I broke the lock of our blades, spinning to the side in one fluid motion, my left-hand sword coming up in a vicious arc aimed at his ribs. Lyan reacted instantly, deflecting the blow with a sharp flick of his wrist, but I was already moving again. My right-hand sword followed, cutting toward his midsection, and I saw a flicker of surprise cross his face. He twisted, just barely managing to dodge the strike, his tail snapping toward me like a whip.
